Just to see him
by XxFleurdelySxX
Summary: FINALLY, final chapter uploaded! New Orleans, 1975. A life begins, another is shattered into pieces. The story of a mother too young to be one.
1. Just to see him

**Note**** : The no-name girl  (let's call her Jane Doe) is mine, the baby belongs to Marvel, even if his name isn't mentionned (I think you can guess just by reading my other fanfics). I wrote this while I was thinking about the next chapter in my other fanfic. But this short story has _nothing to do with what's happening in the saga __Through Time is turning into. So don't think this is a spoiler for _TT_. I'm just having fun._**

She moaned as the pain ran through her body one more time, waking her. The room was dark, and the clock on the wall suggested it was almost 4 o'clock in the morning. The sky was still a dark grey, it would be so until almost 7. She could see the big evergreen trees through the window, slightly stirring under the small breeze, and she could smell the humidity in the warm air. Even in January, the weather was warm in New Orleans, especially in a hospital room. 

Her stomach was clenched with cramps and she could still feel the ripping in her womb and between her legs. The blood still lightly flooded from there, and she started to cry again. She felt so alone. She hurt and felt like she was a living wound.

She raised herself on her elbow and looked at the wheelchair by her bed. If she could just sit on it, she could go see him. The thought of him gave her the strenght she needed to get on the wheelchair, and she pushed the big wheels ahead, heading for the door and into the white corridor.

She had signed. But she would see him.

The scent of disinfectant made bile rise to her throath, and the neon lighting hurt her eyes. Why did they persisted on putting the nursery so far from the new mothers' rooms, she didn't know. But she was tirering and hurting, and the corridor seemed to stretch a little more each time she managed to push the wheels a little further.

She had to see him. One last time. She had signed, but she had to see him.

Her hand had been shaking when she had put her signature on the piece of paper. Now he was born, and there was nothing she could do about it. 

She couldn't go back in time, and tear the form into pieces.

She had signed.

But she wanted to see him.

She arrived in front of the big glass window of the nursery, and she peeked inside, streching her neck to see over the wooden frame. She let out a brief sight of despair. There must have been dozens of babies in there! She could never see him! A diamond tear ran down her cheek and sunk in her blue hospital shirt. She automaticaly played with the little plastic bracelet on her arm, as if it could lift him into the air and levitated him to the glass window.

Where she could see him.

But she couldn't. She didn't have any magical powers, of anything, like the mutants she could hear about on the small television in her small room. She couldn't see him. A sob shook her hurting chest, and she felt pain seeping through her heart like a venomous snake.

She couldn't see him.

She had signed.

A white dressed woman appeared on the other side of the room. The nurse bent over a bed and took a little baby girl, speaking soothing words she couldn't hear through the glass. Her heart leaped. She knocked on the window, tears running down her cheeks. The nurse could show him to her. 

She could see him.

The nurse lifted her head, and her features softened when she saw her. She put the baby back in the crib and walked towards the window. 

She would see him. The nurse would help.

She showed her blue bracelet to the nurse. The woman squinted her eyes to read the name on it, then she looked at her eyes, and stared at her a few seconds with an expression she couldn't read.

She moved her mouth to mime the word "please". The nurse's eyes were beginning to wet, and she nodded before turning back. She walked towards one of the white cribs, and took in her arms a tiny blue clothed baby, limp with sleep in her arms.

She couldn't help crying.

She would see him.

Even if she had signed.

The nurse slowly walked to the glass window, and showed her the baby. The little boy was deep in sleep, mouth slightly opened. His eyes were closed, dark lashes resting on his round cheeks. A dark auburn fuzz garnished his round head, and he stirred a bit in the nurse's arms, dreaming his baby dreams.

She was crying.

He was perfect.

Her son.

No, she corrected herself. It wasn't her son. It wasn't anymore from the moment she had signed her name on the piece of paper they had put in front of her.

She had no choice.

Disowened by her parents, abandonned by the man who had given her this treasure, this abomination. Crying, she had put her signature on the adoption form. What else could she have done? She was sixteen, she had no money to raise him, to feed him. 

He was perfect, but he wasn't hers anymore.

He had never been.

The nurse walked away from the window and put back the sleeping baby into his crib. She cast a sad look to the teenage girl in a wheelchair the other side of the glass window, crying because she knew she would never hold her son.

She had seen him.

Even if she had signed.

But it had hurt more than it had helped.

He was perfect.

But he wasn't hers.


	2. The Thieves Guild

**Note : Okay, a review suggested something interesting, and I couldn't resist… This was meant as a short story, but I doubt it will be long, anyways. No-name woman is mine, the others belong to Disney. Duh.**

**Enjoy.**

The nurse looked up from the files she was checking, sure she heard a noise. The corridor was white and silent, and she dropped her head down again, resuming her searches. She had a blue bracelet clad in her hand, and her eyes were slithly wet with emotion.

There he was.

Bébé Gagnon. A small smile came to her lips. Not knowing how to name him, they had given him her name.

She had become a nurse, just to see small babies and remember how perfect hers was, the only time she had seen him. She had been hired in the Children Hospital three weeks ago, and had found these files involuntarily. Now she had found them, though… She looked at the small picture. She just wanted to look at it another time, but her eyes caught something, and she stopped breathing a minute. A note from a doctor, or a secretary, written in clear blue ink.

"Not adopted. Mutant eyes. Sent to New Orleans Children Orphanage. June 16, 1975."

Tears ran down her cheek. An orphanage! Her baby!

She sniffed. What could "mutant eyes" mean? A weird color?

She put the file back into the drawer, closed it, and went back to work. She would find out.

***************

She lifted her head and repressed a deep shudder, looking up to the austere building. She slowly walked to the door, crossing sad looks from the kids that had stopped playing in the yard, wondering who would have the chance to get out this time. She looked at the ground, tears in her eyes. Her baby, here! Well he surely wasn't here anymore, being something like 28 years old. But she needed to know his name. She pushed the door open.

The old woman gave her a cold look from the other side of the deep brown desk.

"I remember the kid. Weird, with demon eyes and pigheaded temper. Would scare the other kids out of their wits." She pushed the files towards her, rolling her eyes. "All the other kids would call him Son of Satan, but he called himself Remy, I don't know why. So that's the name we kept in the files."

"Who adopted him?" She raised her head to meet a deep glare from the woman.

"Nobody would be that crazy… No, he ran away. Probably died in the streets, like the rat he was."

Her hands clenched, and she repressed the need to punch the old woman's face. Instead she rose, a copie of the orphanage files clutched to her chest. She spoke with a white voice. "I thank you for your kindness, 'mam… I'll be leavin' now."

She walked towards the door, eyes filled with pain.

Dead?

He couldn't be.

***************

She was walking to her appartment in the French Quarter, where she lived with two cats. It was already late and she hated the scary silence of the nearby streets. She knew it wasn't empty, though; the two famous guilds were everywhere in New Orleans. She passed near a man dressed in a black suit and recognized the thieves uniform. She sighted, at least _they didn't kill. Then she saw something else. The flash of the gun under the street lamp, the sound of running footsteps behind her, the man yelling "_Attention_*!", pinning her on the ground. Her breath ran short and she closed her eyes, feeling the weight of the man on her. She could hear sounds, shouts, and gun shots and soon it was silent again, and the man stirred on her, rolling onto his side with a moan. She got on her knees and looked at him. He was on his back, a look of pain on his face, doubled up. Men were running towards them as she tore his clothes to have a look at his chest. He had received the shot in his side. Lucky, the bullet had gone through the flesh without touching the lung. She needed to stop the bleeding but looked dubiously at the clothes the man was wearing, and shrugged before tearing up her own white blouse. _

"He's been shot, dammit, we have to get him to de mansion" said a man leaning over them. "You a nurse?" he asked her. She nodded, not looking away from what he was doing.

"Dat man has to be taken to de hospital…"

"He's going to live?" he interrupted her.

"Well yes, but…"

"Den he goes to de mansion. And you come too, to tend his wounds." She didn't insist, and she finished dressing the wound before the other men carried the moaning man into a black car. The man who seemed to be the leader motionned her to sit inside, and she shrugged. They didn't look to dangerous, and she wanted to be sure the man who had saved her was going to be okay.

***************

She finished tending the man's wounds and pulled up the covers on him. Sitting on a big chair, she looked at him. He must have been in his mid thirties and was a very handsome man. His long blond hair were tied up in his neck and a light blonde beard was garnishing his long, homely face. He was sound asleep, dark lashes resting on his high cheeks. She looked at the surroundings, positively impressed by the wealth of the house. The door opened and a man entered the room, silently closing the door behind him. He paused, the hand on the handle, then turned to her, blue eyes full of worry. He was an older, darker version of the man lying in the bed, and she guessed he was his father. Grey hair mingled with brown, and the dark brows were drawned over the strickinly pale eyes.

"Is he going to be okay?" he asked her in a soft voice.

"Yes… the wounds aren't dat bad, he just needs to rest, now."

The man crossed the room and took her hand. "Thank you, for helping m'son." I chuckle, looking at the sleeping man.

"Well, it's de least I could do, he did save m'life…" The man smile.

"Yes, he does dat sometimes. He's almost as crazy as his brother." A shadow filled his eyes, but he blinked and it disapeared. He extanded a hand to me. "My name is Jean-Luc LeBeau. Dis guy" he motionned at my savior "is Henri, my older son. I suggest you stay here for tonight, I'll ask Mercy to prepare a room for you."

"Oh… well, thank you."

***************

I looked at the huge room and walked to the photographs on the walls. The biggest caught my attention, and I saw two teens in swimming suit. One of them fair, the other had deep auburn hair. They were wet to the bone and held water guns in their hands. I recognized the older boy as Henri, that couldn't had been more than 18 on the picture. The other was no more than 12, and both had a rogue grin on their face. Their eyes were squinted against the sun, and I supposed the brown boy was Mr. LeBeau other son. I hadn't met him yet, but then, he might as well have been part of the group of thieves. I dismissed the matter, and went to bed.

* Watch out!


	3. François' heir

**Note**** : I personnaly think this story is sad. The first chapter could have happened, it would explain the abandonning and give a little credit to the young mother. The other chapters, though, don't fit anywhere in Gambit's story (nor does my other stories, but this one is waaaaaay out of the line), and we all know this could never happen. I'm just having fun, thinking about it while I'm working… Thanks for the reviews! This is really encouraging. I was a bit afraid you wouldn't like this one. And it _was meant to be a short story, with only one chapter… couldn't resist the urge to write more, though._**

**Becki : Does his father have a wife? Jean-Luc, you mean? Mmmm, well, no, not that I know of… Interesting, indeed.**

**Mag Carter : I teach history and French, not geography nor ecology. Now you know why… Thanks for the evergreen, oaks and cypress thingny, I'll get that corrected! Thanks!**

**Special thanks to my mother for giving her name to my no-longer-no-name-Remy's-mother. Louise belongs to me, the others to Marvel. It they were mine, you'd have to pay to read this… Would you?**

**Enjoy.**

She wandered a long time before finally finding Henri's bedroom. She gently knocked but, having no answer, opened the door to check on her patient. He had moved in is sleep and was now laying on his uninjured side. He was a handsome young man and he would heal quick. But she felt the need to see him, to thank him for the saving of her life. She layed a hand on his forehead. He was a little feverish, but his breathing was slow and regular. He would wake up shortly and his wound would hurt, but until then, she might as well get down and find food for her growling stomach.

She turned back a few corners back to the staircase she had seen before, and went down the stairs. She arrived in a big hall decorated with luxuous furnitures, and nearly bumped into Jean-Luc, making him drop his newspaper on the floor.

"Oh, I'm sorry." He just smiled at her, bending to pick up the newspaper.

"Bah, it's nothin', I wasn't lookin' where I was going either! Care for a cup'o coffee?" She nodded and followed him to a big white kitchen, where the scent of coffee went up her nose, making her smile.

"Dere's a picture, in the room y'gave me, with two boys on it… I'm fairly sure de older one his Henri, but de other one?" A sad look went through Jean-Luc's eyes, and he smiled a bit before answering.

"Oh, dat would be my youngest, Remy." Her heart gave a leap at the name, but she calmed herself. There were thousands of Remy's in the world.

"Does he still live here?" He stared at his hands, flat on the wooden table and gave a small sigh. He spoke softly.

"No." He lifted his head to look at her. "He left ten years ago. I have news, he writes sometimes, but… I haven't seen him since he was eighteen. He's somewhere in New York now, working with other mutants to save the world or something." There was a bit of anger in his voice. "I can't help thinking a mother could'a helped him control dis damn temper of his, instead of sending him to a band of mutants I wouldn't even trust m'self…" He gave a small sigh, and looked up at her with a little smile. "Sorry to bother ye with dis…" She waved a hand to him to dismiss the matter. She had a question, but hesitated…

"Hum… What happened to their mother?"

"Their? Oh well, Henri's mother died in childbirth. Remy's mother, I don't know. He says he was abandonned and lived in a orphanage for a while. I found him in de streets, earning his food as a pickpocket. I had pity for de child, and adopted him as my second son. I never had to regret dat decision… one of de best I've made in my life." The smile was back in his eyes, but she didn't notice it. Her heart was beating wildly in her chest and thoughts were going a hundred miles per hour in her head. Could it be…? Jean-Luc opened his mouth to say something else when the phone rang. She heard a feminine voice answering in the room next door, and soon a pretty looking brunette popped her head in the kitchen, a grin on her face.

"Jean-Luc, _c'est pour toi*… You're going to like this, I think." Jean-Luc frowned and walked to the other room to take the call. The woman came into the room and sat at the table. She looked at her, and smiled again._

"Remy doesn't call often" she explained. "So you're my husband's savior… My name's Mercy, and you?"

She didn't have the time to reply. Jean-Luc ran into the room, wearing a leather coat, stopping by the counter to pick up a set of keys. Mercy raised her delicate brows in questionning, and Jean-Luc smiled at them. "He was calling from the airport! I'm picking him up!"

"What?" Mercy seeming genuinely surprised. After all, Remy had been away for ten years… Jean-Luc still didn't answer, and yelled from the hall, just before the door closed : "_À tantôt**_!"

***************

She put a hand on Henri's forehead and gave out a sigh. He was still having a little fever, nothing bad, but he wasn't sleeping well. Mercy was sitting next to the other side of the bed, reading a book, waiting for the man to open an eye. She looked up to watch her. "He woke up this night, but he seemed feverish…"

"He probably was, but it's better right now."

"Are you going to stay here to take care of him? Since Tante Mattie died, nobody here knows how to take care of wounds and illnesses… And given some wounds," she cast a fast glare at her injured husband "sometimes hospital isn't the best of places to go unnoticed."

"I can understand dat… yes, I'll stay, at least for the rest of de day. I want to make sure dis fever goes away, and dat dis doesn't get infected." She took a long intake. Her hands were shaking madly since Jean-Luc had left for the airport.

Mercy nodded, not noticing her nervousness, and her head went up when the sound of the door opening and male voices came from downstairs, and she ran to the door. The other woman followed, a little more slowly. She arrived in the hall were Mercy was being hugged by a dark, tall man. Jean-Luc saw her coming, and tapped on the man's shoulder, smiling. The young man looked up and grinned at her, extanding a hand.

"Dat's the woman who saved you're brother's life, Remy" said Jean-Luc. "Meet…" He suddently looked puzzled, and stared at the woman. Remy just waited, brows raised.

"Huh, well… my… my name is Louise" she stammered. Remy had sunglasses on, but even with those on his face, memories flooded in her mind as she stared at his face.

A tall, young man in his early twenties. Named François Boulanger. Not a Cajun, but a Quebecer in New Orleans for business twice a month, with a nice burring accent and vowels sounding like music to her ears. She had met him when she was only sixteen. Much too young to find the man of her dreams, especially when that man is already married to a young woman. He was tall and handsome, with dark auburn hair and a long homely face. With a great sense of humour and terrible charming ways with women. Deep blue eyes with tints of violet and gold, that searched her soul each time they plunged into hers. And a runaway heart, that always went back to his first love, leaving her weeping in her bed in New Orleans. The last time she had seen him, he gently touched her face, told her he loved her, but that he had to go back and would never come again. He had said goodbye to her with his body, and had left to never come back, leaving her now pregnant and alone. She had never told him she was bearing his child. He had other things to think. Other babies to take care of.

She was now looking at a carbone copy of François. Remy was older than the man she remembered, in his late twenties. Same hair, same hands, same face… The same sweet smile on his thin lips, showing white teeth. She had been fearing she was right since the phone call this morning.

She was right.

She fainted, falling forward, only to be caught by Remy from falling on the floor. He gathered the woman in his arms and layed her down on a sofa nearby. He stood up, took off his sunglasses and looked at his father with his incredible red on black eyes, a ironic grin on his face. "Told ya nobody resisted my charm!"

* It's for you.

** See you later!


	4. Recognition

**Note**** : Snif! There's the final chapter to that story, hope you liked it. Hope you like the end, too. Thanks to all of those who reviewed and who will review (hint, hint) this story. And special thanks to those who would pay for this *smile*. As to those who imagined a love story between Jean-Luc and Louise… Well, not in _that_ story, but I'll put the idea on ice!**

**Enjoy.**

The hard scent of vinegar rose to her nostrils, and she grimaced. The next thing she was aware of was the sound of voices around her, then a hand on her shoulder, gently shaking her. "Hey, _chere, are'y alright?". She opened her eyes but promptly shut them and put a hand to her forehead, trying to ease the vertigo in her head. A hand fastened on her arm to steady her as she sat up on the sofa, and she finaly felt it safe to open her eyes. The images were a blur of color, but slowly her mind made up the links and Jean-Luc's head was looming over her, a worried look on his face. He smiled when she met his glaze, though._

"Remy always had the kick with gals, dat I knew. Never saw one react dis way, though."

"Me neither, believe me. Dis de first time it happens" said another voice next to her. She turned her head, and gasped.

Remy was kneeling on the floor next to the sofa, a small bottle of vinegar on his hand. He had taken off his sunglasses, and she was seeing his eyes for the first time. Instead of white, the eyeball seemed entirely black, and the iris was a striking red with bits of golden, with a slight glow in them, as if a candle was lit inside the eye. The pupils were wide with questionning, and she could see the eyes themselves could hold a lot of expression, in this case bewilderment and interrogation. She snapped out of her reverie, noticing she was staring, and shook her head. _Mutant eyes, the woman had said. Indeed. She moaned and put her face in her hands, not noticing the worried look Remy and Jean-Luc exchanged._

"Am I so bad lookin'y have to cry?" Remy asked. He had meant it a joke, but the question held a trace of worry. These eyes must have cost him painful experiences, she knew, and she snapped her head up, staring in the red depths.

"No! _Non_, not at all. Oh Remy, y'are as perfect as in my memories…" She stopped dead, and Remy frowned.

"Y'know me?"

"I… no, well…" She sighed, not knowing what to say. That wasn't at all the happy reunion she had imagined! Jean-Luc saved the day, though, sensing something coming.

"Look, let's all just go in de kitchen for coffee, and we'll talk dis over de table. Okay?" She nodded and got up, heading for the kitchen, feeling the red stare in her back.

***************

She put both her hands on the hot cup. The heat burned her fingers, but at least the hands weren't shaking anymore that way. She took a deep breath, trying to calm down. It didn't work, though, and her stomach was so clenched it hurt, and she felt her heart in her throath. She stared at the cup, but she knew Remy and Jean-Luc were looking at her, Jean-Luc on her side, Remy the other side of the table, facing her. They were waiting for an explanation. Remy barely knew her and she had acted strange since his arrival. But to Jean-Luc, her attitude was different, and it seemed to be connected with Remy. Why? He didn't know. She sighed deeply, her breath shaking. "I should begin with the beginning" she thought. "Well, here goes nothing."

"I was fifteen when I met him. A dark man, handsome… He took my teenage heart away. He was married, though, and came from far away, in Québec. He was older than me, a business man, an important man… Everything in him should have pulled me away, but instead, I fell in love." She paused, gulping. The two men were silent, wondering where she was heading with this. "He was here only for business trips, but he came often enough, and I kept having hope. And I kept loving him, and hurting. Today, I wonder why I didn't run away from that doomed relationship. It would have saved me a lot of trouble, but… The last time he came, he said goodbye to me and turned away. A few weeks later, I discovered I was pregnant." Jean-Luc's brows raised to his hairline, and Remy hissed in some air through his teeth. Even today, being a teenage mother is never well seen, especially when no father is visible. "I kept it, of course, I couldn't even think of getting rid of it. So I kept it, and my father disowned me, leaving me just enough money for me to live in a small appartment. I gave birth alone, at sixteen years old, in a cold white room full of strangers that looked at me as if I was a whore…" Tears were running freely on her cheeks now, as the images slowly came to her mind. "It was terrible, it hurt… When the cramps began, I knew I wouldn't be able to give this baby a life. I barely had enough money to live a few weeks, and I would have to work, and I didn't have any education, and…" Jean-Luc reached and put his hand on hers, gently smiling. Get to the point, it said. She looked into his eyes, and saw he was beginning to understand. Then she looked at Remy. He was frowning and looked at her a strange way, and she knew he was beginning to understand as well. "They made me sign an adoption form. I gave the baby to the hospital, trusting them to find him a good family, able to take care of him as I could not. I… I was never supposed to see him. They took him away from me the second he was born, I barely heard him cry before he was out of my room. But I saw him. One night, I went to the nursery, and one of the nurses was kind enough to show him to me. He was sleeping in her arms, but it was my son… my baby…" She sobbed again.

"What are'y trying t'say, _chere?" said Jean-Luc._

"I never was married, and never had other children… I became a nurse, maybe to be close to the other's babies, and hold dem like I could never hold m'son. But a few weeks ago, I was hired at the Children Hospital. I was rumagin' through the files to find something a doctor had asked me… And I found him."

"Him? Your son?" Remy's voice held a cold note. She could see he was dreading what was coming. 

"Yes, and I found out he was never adopted, and put in the New Orleans Orphanage, and den ran away. I lost track of him since then, but…" she took a deep breath. This was harder than she had imagined. And Remy didn't look happy about what he was hearing. "But the old woman of the orphanage told me his name was Remy."

The two men were silent for a long time. She looked up to look at Remy, but he wasn't looking at her. He was staring at the window, and she could see his adam's apple bob up and down as he digested what she had just said. It could be a coincidence, but…

"That's why I felt bad when I saw you, when you came in. You look just like him, like François…"

It seems that was too much. His glaze shifted to her for a few seconds, a blank stare that felt like a ton of steel falling on her heart. He raised from his chair and walked to the window. "What you're tellin'me, is dat you're my mother." It wasn't a question, but she nodded slowly.

"I'm sorry I left'y at the hospital… now dat I know what happened to you…"

"I've never had a childhood" he interrupted. "I would have been adopted if it wouldn't have been for dese eyes…"

"I left you because I didn't have any money to raise'y… If I had known what you would go through in your youth, I wouldn't have."

"You wouldn't?" He turned back to her, his eyes glowing. "Would'y have kept me, after seeing dese eyes?"

Jean-Luc's eyes were travelling from one side to another, curious and worried at the same time. He knew Remy. At least he did know him, ten years ago. That man was far from the boy that had left when he was 18.

"You really think I care?" She was beginning to be upset. This man didn't know her, and pretented to know better than her what she would do? "You think I'm freaked out? Remy, never I would have left you if I had had the choice. I wanted you to have a good home, dat's why I left. I'll always regret it didn't happen de way I wanted. And I'll always regret dat you were unhappy, because of me." She was up by now, her arms crossed on her chest. Flush was rising to her face, and her eyes were wet with tears. She wanted him to understand, but she could understand herself why he wouldn't believe her. His face changed. He turned his face towards the window again, his brows drawn together and his eyes full of hurt. He snorted at her lasts words. "Unhappy? Well, if you put it dat way."

Her face lost all trace of color, and Jean-Luc could almost tell when her heart broke. He rose and reached to touch her shoulder, but she just dropped down her head, her hair hiding her face, and ran out the kitchen. He could hear the sound of her footsteps in the stairs. He turned to Remy, who was now leaning on the window frame, his forehead pressed against the glass and his eyes closed. He drew a deep breath before speaking. "I am a fool, ain't I."

"No kidding" Jean-Luc said. "Whyever did'y had to be so cruel, Remy? Y'broke de woman's heart in pieces." Remy sighed, deeply, and turned back.

"I don't know… Or I do, but I don't think y'de one I should tell."

Jean-Luc made a wry smile and nodded, and Remy slowly made his way to the stairs.

***************

He slowly opened the door. He didn't knock, he knew women well enough she would have said something like 'go to hell', 'fuck off' or 'leave me alone you bastard'. No, she wouldn't say the last one, he thought. No matter what he could have said before, the woman wasn't cruel. She was laying on her stomach, her head turned towards the window, her back turned to him. She silently sobbed, and his heart clenched seeing her shoulders shake with every hiccup.

"I've got used to it, y'know." She started and turned, sitting on the bed. Her eyes were red with tears, and her mouth slightly opened in a small 'o'.

"What? Whar are'y doing up here? And got used to what?" she asked, her voice returning.

"Used to hating you. Not _you personnaly" he added hastily, seeing her eyes grow huge "but… but my mother, de one I've never known." He sighed. That was all wrong. "See, I've always thought I had been abandonned by m'mother, 'cause o'de eyes. Thought she freaked out, and left me alone in de hospital. Den, as de years went by, I learned to hate dat woman I had never known, because I thought her responsible for that wreck m'life was. But now I know you, and all the things you've said are going against all I ever believed in m'life. Y're not the bad, evil mutant-hater woman I dreamed of as a child. I just get a little bad tempered when I understand I was wrong all along…" Her eyes were on him, full of tears, and she slowly moved to the end of the bed, raising to her feet, and walked to him. In front of him, she raised her head to look at him in the eyes. He made a little smile, but hers was startlingly beautiful._

"You've got dat from y'mom, believe me."

Fin!


End file.
